While I was out perusing the shops and generally abusing my feet this afternoon, I happened to go into McDonalds for a bite to eat. I haven't done this since my mid teens, at a rough guess, and decided it was probably worth seeing if it was as bad as todays fast-food connoisseurs make out. In short, it is, however I did discover something extremely amusing in the grand interior design scheme the mad, red-haired clown inflicts on all his places of worship. Leering down at me from something eerily like one of those devotional portraits that people of faith hang around their houses for some reason (saints and the like, mostly; the virgin Mary, or St. Christopher, one of that crowd.) was the face of none other than Nicolo Machiavelli. On realising this, I accidentally inhaled a large mouthful of milkshake. That stuff's like really cold, flavoured porridge. It's not a good idea to breathe it in. Consequently I'm choking, giggling, going blue and being watched by 20 or so dumbass Wiganers, who haven't the slightest clue who Machiavelli is, or why it's so amusing that he's sitting up there on McDonald's wall. Life is occasionally very cool. I'd like to think the picture was put there by some subversive interior designer, for the benefit of those who would see the joke, but I suspect it's just one of those things.